


Bard and Witch

by myao3stories



Series: Of Gods and Games [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Gen, Medievalstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:02:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myao3stories/pseuds/myao3stories





	Bard and Witch

Your name is Cronus and you are a disgraced seadweller. You, like so many others, do not have a second name. You were supposed to go off and search for it in a journey of self discovery. Now, however, you are in shackles and in the pits forced to fight for the entertainment of the nobles.

You once believed you had the destiny to fight a great evil in the land, so you pushed yourself and achieved the highest position you could barring a quadrant with the empress. In a way, you still hold onto the hope, it continues to drive you. 

Your stay in this damnable pit would have been maddening if not for a lowblood servant to tend to your “needs”. Being one of the top fighters gave you access to such  _disgusting_  “perks”. You weren’t quite sure if the rustblood was circulated about while you were off fighting, but you made it quite clear to the others that she was yours.

Or at least as much as “yours” as you’d allow yourself.

For what it was worth, Damara was a sweet girl to others, but when you two were alone she practically became a different person. She tore off the subservient facade around you and embraced the jaded persona you’d expect from a handmaid.

The pits were a lucrative business for freemen, even some slaves such as yourself have patrons of sort.  One such perk was your own block with some luxuries that reminded you of your old life sailing the seas. There were two quick knocks before Damara entered unannounced, shutting the door behind her and locking it. “Orphaner Dualscar, what a pleasure.” She said in her thick, eastern accent.

You grin and shut the book you were reading. “What a pleasure, indeed.” You watch her undo her hair and kick her shoes off at the door, sighing. “Did you have a rough day?”

She scoffed and moved over to a small box of cigarettes. “Some idiot thought I was a prostitute.” She took one out and lit it, taking a toke before continuing. “They had to stop me from jabbing my fucking needles into his eyes.”

"What a shame. I’d have paid to see that." You set the book down and moved to her. "I should hope those are to your liking."

She let out a puff of smoke slowly. “They are. Those idiot…” She trailed off as the door was unlocked and two figures entered. They looked quite regal, the woman looked quiet eastern while the man was clearly a seadweller.

You didn’t know why two esteemed looking… patrons, you supposed, entered your block, but for a moment you wished you had your blunderbuss in case they were too dangerous. The seadweller spoke first, scoffing, “So these bumbling fools are to be our fucking champions?” He rolled his eyes and quite frankly you wanted to hit him.

The woman put her hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Quite so, really. We watched their games these past few days and the passed all our little tests.” She gave a warm smile to Damara and you flinched as she approached her. “My dear, you have been chosen for an extraordinary task.”

Damara simply puffed smoke in her face. The woman continued to smile and she turned away. “Come, my dear, you must pack your bags! We have quite a chore ahead.” Damara gave you an exasperated look before following the woman out of your block.

The door shut quietly, leaving you and the seadweller alone. Perhaps it was the instincts bred of the noble castes to be instantly aware and distrusting of their fellow caste members. You weren’t sure, frankly, and you didn’t care. “Since apparently you can’t fucking tell who I am, I’ll tell you.” Your eyes narrow at the sheer arrogance. “I am Eridan fucking Ampora, Prince of Hope.”

Oh.

That explains a bit.

"What did the other woman want with Damara?" You ask, tensing up a bit more. "What did you mean by champions?"

He rolled his eyes and folded his arms. “We, your fucking gods, have decided to choose champions to act in our will. Congratulations, I choose you as my underling.” You snarled at that. You hated your servitude here, but serving a god seemed worse. “Don’t look so fucking happy. If it were up to me, you’d have another fucking test.”

"Like what?" You spat out. "I can take on any fucking trial you throw at me." You rein in your temper a bit, the facade of your nobility breaking for a moment.

"There’s a beast in these disgusting pits. Go ahead and kill it." The Prince turned and opened the door forcibly. "I had hoped to kill it myself, so it’s already at the arena." You couldn’t help but grin. Kill a monster? What a pathetic trial.

You arrive in the armor and don your garb, in a most insulting case of how little fucks you give you wear lewd bardic clothing. Frankly, you enjoy seeing the nobles squirm under it. You enter the arena cocky and with your special blunderbuss.

The crowd gives their cheers and you soak it up. What you see ahead of you, however gives you slight pause. You don’t know  _what_ or  _where_ these pit mongrels obtained a wyrm, and frankly you don’t want to know.

All you know is suddenly there’s an angry wyrm roaring at you and intending on killing you. “Fuck.” You mutter once, charging at it. Such a brazen show of force might confuse it…

Except that’s stupid. It’s a wyrm, not a dragon. It’s not intelligent, you half-wit. It charges at you and its gaping maw opens wide. You get a stupid, really stupid, idea.

You dive into its mouth and you can hear the hushes and gasps of the crowd. The wyrm didn’t realize what happened for the precious few seconds you needed to aim your blunderbuss at what you hoped was its brain and shot.

The creature kept moving forward, its blood flowing atop you. You believe you’ve stunned it as it has yet to swallow you. You look where it’s charging to and wish that you actually brought a knife with you.

The wyrm slams into the walls of the pit, dying, and you are thrust into its throat. Your back lands on the back of the creature’s throat and you fight it to stand again.

After a few minutes of tearing yourself free, biting and tearing at the wyrm’s flesh to your utter disgust, you move to the front of its mouth. You reload the blunderbuss silently, aim, and shoot the teeth, giving you a large enough gap to slip through.

Frankly, you’re not even sure how any of that worked to begin with.

When you land in the pit’s dusty arena, the crowd erupts in wild applause. You wave your free hand, grinning at the crowd. Your eyes scan and you see the Prince and his companion as well as Damara. The Prince looks quite unimpressed, Damara is as easy to read as ever - which is to say not at all - and the other woman is clapping.

You have a feeling you and Damara are in for quite a show in the coming days…


End file.
